Limbo
by LouiseKurylo
Summary: How did Lisbon experience Jane's six months in Las Vegas while he used himself as bait for Red John? Those six months from her POV.
1. Chapter 1 - The Break

**Limbo**

**Who:** Jane, Lisbon, Cho, Rigsby, Van Pelt, Wainwright

**What:** The CBI side of Jane's 6-months in Las Vegas attempting to lure Red John

**When:** From Wainwright's conversation with Jane to the end of the attempt to get Red John in Vegas

**Where:** At the CBI and later in Vegas

**Why:** How Lisbon experiences those 6 months

**Disclaimer:** The author owns nothing of The Mentalist characters, series, etc.

* * *

**Chapter 1 - The Break**

**Day 0**

Jane solved the Antonio Castro case, the case where Castro had been locked in a coffin by Benjamin Marks and left to die. Unfortunately, Jane had also locked the murderer, Benjamin Marks, in a coffin-just overnight-to extract a confession. The police came, the ambulance came, Marks was rescued and Lisbon was grateful to the bottoms of her soles that Marks looked no worse for the wear. Well, at least he wasn't obviously injured or deranged.

And now it was time for the consequences. Her stomach clenched. She forced down nausea as she told her consultant, "Let's go see Wainwright. Come on."

After a moment, Jane followed willingly. She repeatedly glanced at him during the short trip to the CBI building. Jane didn't look overwrought. He looked...opaque. Closed off and entirely self-contained. She had even less sense of what he was thinking than normally. That worried her, more than usual because of Red John's taunts on the anniversary of the murder of Jane's family. She still didn't know what to make of Jane's decision to give up hunting Red John. She didn't even know if she believed it. The biggest unknown was what was going on inside Jane's head. She was desperately afraid he was in trouble. Cho had come to the same conclusion. Cho wasn't given to unwarranted drama and angst.

Wainwright was sure to be pissed. So she and, she guessed, Jane would have to listen to a lecture. Afterward, maybe she could get Jane to take time off, clear his head and heart of the Red John pain before taking on any more cases.

It was worse than Lisbon feared. Wainwright was in full righteous dudgeon. There was no case. The confession and evidence prized from Marx by the coffin stunt would be thrown out of court (_had to give Wainwright that one_). Marx would walk free (_nope, Jane was probably right that that wouldn't happen_). Lisbon pointed out they already could build a case against Marx for stealing via fraudulent trades, and maybe could leverage that into a decent murder case. Wainwright immediately changed the topic, telling Jane SacPD wanted to arrest him for assaulting Marx. Jane coolly countered by noting Marx had a gun-so, it was self-defense-and that Jane could get a jury to believe him. That was a telling blow. Jane had gotten a jury to acquit him of first degree murder charges for killing Timothy Carter in cold blood in front of five-hundred witnesses.

So Wainwright trotted out his real beef. Jane had tortured Marx and made the CBI look bad. _True. Absolutely true._ Unfortunately, Wainwright gave zero weight to the fact that Marx was a psychopathic murderer who had given Castro the most terrifying death possible: Left to die in a coffin, handcuffed and alone. _Why did Wainwright never mention the victim, only the injustices done to the perp? God, what's with that man?!_ Grace was foolish enough to bite when Jane asked if Marx deserved it; Cho and Rigsby had more sense. Jane again refused to apologize, refused to cede anything.

Desperate to defuse the tension, Lisbon suggested that Jane could take a time out, the leave she thought Jane really needed. _Stupid! Just the opening Wainwright needed._ Wainwright immediately pounced, imposing a 30-day suspension. He then upped the ante. He would personally recommend that the CBI permanently discontinue Jane as a consultant.

It felt like the floor dropped out from under her. Lisbon knew Jane wouldn't let that pass. _What did he have to lose?_ She was right. Calmly. Quietly. In a few sentences Jane publicly shredded Wainwright's authority and composure by targeting his innermost insecurities with deadly accuracy. After Wainwright lost his temper and any semblance of professionalism, Jane mocked him just to rub it in.

Wainwright fired him, of course. Jane's only response was an infinitely contemptuous, mirthless smile. More clearly than any words, the smile shouted Jane's opinion of Wainwright as an unqualified, ineffective child pretending to do a man's job.

Lisbon ran after Jane, begging him not to do anything rash, pleading with him to talk it out after work. Probably correctly, Jane doubted it could be fixed. He deflected her offer to help with half a smile and a non-sequiteur compliment. The nightmare had begun.


	2. Chapter 2 - The New, Sad Normal

**Limbo**

**Chapter 2 - The New, Sad Normal**

Lisbon re-lived the meeting yet again, overwhelmed by the morning's nightmare ending. Returning to the present she lifted her hand from her keyboard, then blocked and deleted the pages of m's she had unwittingly entered. She got up, took the now-cold coffee to the kitchenette, dumped it and got a fresh cup. She stopped by the bullpen on her way back to her office. Her team–_the three remaining members of her team_–looked like she felt, and pretended to work when she walked in.

"Everyone, in my office. We have more work to do."

Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt glumly followed her.

"We know Marks murdered Antonio Castro. Let's get new evidence that will stand up in court to support a murder charge. I'll get the search warrants. Rigsby, work with forensics to go through Marks's apartment. There must be something we can use. That vacant factory was contaminated with mercury. See if traces of mercury or anything else can tie Marks to the site. Van Pelt, see if any SmartPass toll records show Marks driving near the factory on the day Castro disappeared. And maybe there's a paper trail. Credit card slip, receipt for the handcuffs, anything. Go back a few weeks _before_ the murder as well. Marks had to have checked out the site before luring Castro there. Cho, work with the forensic accountants and see just how closely they can tie the fraudulent trades and cover-up to Marks and the time of Castro's death. When you're done with those steps, all three of you go interview anyone who might have seen Marks near there. I know Castro was murdered six months ago, but you never know. By God, we are going to build the murder case and make it stick."

The three looked more positive at the prospect of useful work. Making the murder charge stick against Marks would at least vindicate Jane's pyrrhic accomplishment in solving the case. They drifted toward the door, then exchanged glances and paused just inside Lisbon's office.

Cho finally voiced the unspoken concern, "Boss, what about Jane?"

Lisbon looked down, then back up at the group. "Don't get your hopes up for a quick fix. Jane's dug a pretty deep hole. I'll try to talk to him after work. He's at least got to apologize. Maybe Wainwright will reconsider after some time goes by. Let's focus on the case for now and see how the rest plays out."

Uncharacteristically, Lisbon left work early. _Damn it, Jane was so far out of line he was in another time zone. But Wainwright could have left it at a 30-day suspension. He just _had_ to say he'd recommend banning Jane from consulting with CBI. That was the last straw–what did Jane have to lose? So much for Wainwright's tender concern after Jane burned his Red John files. Wainwright's compassion ends when it's inconvenient for him, when it might actually matter._ Lisbon drove to Jane's extended-stay hotel room. He wasn't there and wasn't answering his phone. She gave up at midnight. The next day was a workday.

**Days 1-6**

Jane's phone rang, unanswered, as it had all week. Lisbon left another message, as she had all week. She stopped by his hotel room after work each day and on the weekend, no longer expecting him to answer the door, no longer surprised the Citroen wasn't there. She finally used the spare key Jane had given her for emergencies. Toiletries, shirts, underwear, and a few suits were missing. Not only was Jane gone, but it looked like he planned to remain gone...for how long? Without much hope it would matter, she left a note asking him to call her.

**Day 9**

Lisbon's team finished their work on the Castro case and forwarded the evidence to the DA's office. Gossip and disapproval about Jane having trapped Marks in a coffin were widespread in CBI. Despite that, the DA's staff reassured Lisbon that any lawsuit against Jane related to the coffin would be quashed in exchange for not pursuing Marks for his concealed carry of an unlicensed firearm which had the serial numbers filed off. Wainwright's action in firing Jane also helped protect CBI, as did Dennis Victor's efforts to keep the whole matter quiet to protect his firm.

The team amassed evidence supporting the murder charge. The most damning physical evidence was the mercury residue on Marks's shoes and in his closet. It wasn't just mercury, but a unique stew of toxic chemicals specific to the site–almost as definitive as fingerprints. The motive was amply supported by accounting evidence that only Marks had access to Castro's accounts and that Marks made millions from trades before and after Castro's death.


	3. Chapter 3 - Six Months in Purgatory

**Limbo**

**Chapter 3 - Six Months In Purgatory**

**Journal Entry - Day 14**

I'm starting this journal in hopes that writing it down will get it out of my head. For peace of mind. To be able to sleep.

It's been 14 days with no sign of J. He's not at his hotel. No one's seen the Citroen (it does stand out). Messages go th rough to his cell phone, but he won't answer–calls, voice mail, texts. No sign he's using his email account. I'm worried. Where do I start looking?

Round and round. What should I have done differently? What would have made a difference? The anniversary of the murders and RJ's taunt must have pushed him over the edge. I knew he was in trouble. Should I have talked to him? He decided to quit hunting RJ and burned his files. J had to experience that as betraying his family, as a RJ victory. I should have forced him to take leave. Yeah, right. Like I could force him. He seemed to want to work on the Castro case. My God, he locked Marks in a coffin! J never did anything that far out before.

I should have kept him away from W. Talk about throwing fuel on the fire. On his best days J merely tolerated W and his academic BS. W's clueless and useless. No, worse than useless. W is incompetent. He doesn't have the field experience or instincts for the job. He makes our work harder and more dangerous. W is all about his authority, the p-. Who he could suspend. Who violated a rule. Whether someone could be fired. I never get any sense he protects his people. He's more interested in currying favor with B and playing footsie with the FBI than in protecting his staff from unfair pressure. (Who the hell does W think is going to make him look good, make his career, anyhow?!) God, I wish Minelli or Hightower was still boss. Damn you W. One J is worth dozens of people like you.

**Journal Entry - Day 30**

It's 30 days. I hoped J would show up and be okay on the one-month mark.

Who am I kidding? J would say I'm being irrational or at least illogical. Why doesn't he answer his damn phone? God, what if he can't? I caught VP checking the physical location of J's phone. The phone is in Vegas. Is J? It could be stolen. What if he's institutionalized again? He had a breakdown after the murders. He didn't seem that bad off a month ago, but he locked Marks in a coffin and ripped W to shreds.

Black humor: Corpses are really hard to keep hidden. At this point, the absence of bad news counts as good news.

**Journal Entry - Day 37**

I checked with the extended stay hotel. The rent's paid. His cell phone is still on, so that bill is being paid. But I recall J setting them up for auto-billing to his bank account. J hates routine chores like that. His hotel room hasn't been touched. The cleaning staff doesn't even bother anymore–they can tell from the vacuum cleaner tracks that no one's been inside.

**Journal Entry - Day 46**

Closure rates are way down. What a surprise. W's being a jerk. He called the unit together to berate them for lower closure rates. W has no clue how demoralizing his contribution– rather, lack of contribution–is. No one thinks W deserves his job. Firing J undermined my efforts to support management. I need to watch my step. Regardless of how I feel about W, I need to respect the position so I can protect my team. Not to mention keep my job.

The team is gradually getting over J's absence, but it's hard. No one's had the heart to move the couch or even J's books. And we'd forgotten how tedious the leg-work is without J's leaps of logic and ability to read people. What J did with a glance now takes us days of interviews to tease out. There are cases we just won't solve now. Surprisingly, I think C misses J most. R and VP are still engrossed with each other–maybe that's good for now.

**Journal Entry - Day 58**

The latest case took us to LA. C drove to J's Malibu house with me. I didn't even have to spell it out. He said yes as soon as I mentioned Malibu. C didn't mind picking the lock. It took a while–J chose a hard lock for his own home. Thank God. No decomp smell when we finally got in. C had never been there before. C isn't easily fazed, but he was shocked at the mattress under the RJ smilely face in the bedroom. J's wife and daughter were killed together in the master bedroom. The twin mattress is probably from his daughter's room. Depressing reminder of why J could have had another breakdown. Anyhow, no sign of J. VP checked the records when I asked. All bills are up to date on the house, but they're on auto-pay as well.

**Journal Entry - Day 67**

I walked into the bullpen before work and J was sitting on his couch, looking fine.

If only! What a let-down when I woke up.

Being busy helps. Even when there's time to think during the day, I can usually avoid assuming the worst. The nights are something else. At two in the morning it's hard to beat back every awful possibility. I shouldn't do it, but I'm going to put in a BOLO for the Citroen. I've got to get something to hang on to.

**Journal Entry - Day 68**

The BOLO turned up an old blue Citroen in Vegas. Now what? What does that prove? At least it suggests he's alive. I don't think he'd sell it. (For reasons I'll never understand, he loves that car.) I could drive there, but what would I say? I know my calls go through. J doesn't want contact.

**Journal Entry - Day 76**

Closure rates are up a bit. Our unit's solidly ahead of other CBI units, but still a long way from when J was with the team. W continues to beat it to death.

I'm going to limit myself to one call a day, not that it matters. Still nothing. His phone and car are in Vegas. It would make sense for J to be there. He could survive in that environment as easily as breathing. Poker, black jack. I searched the Internet but J's not performing in any of the shows or night spots. I've left a hundred messages begging him to talk to me, to get help. I can only hope he's okay. At least RJ is still lying low. I have no idea how vulnerable J is. It was all over CBI that J gave up on RJ and was fired so maybe he's safe. God protect him.

**Journal Entry - Day 88**

The jury convicted Benjamin Marks of first degree murder. Life without parole. J had it right–vicious psychopath. The jury seemed especially impressed with how Marks left Castro to die in that box, cuffed, trapped and alone. I wonder if J will read about it. Or care if he does. Cold comfort, but at least some good came of it all.

**Journal Entry - Day 93**

Over three months. Nothing. Why do I care, how can I keep caring? J obviously doesn't want anything to do with CBI. Or me.

Except that sounds too intentional, too rational. If he's really moved on, why is he still paying the extended stay hotel here in Sacramento? Makes no sense. Something's off. Where's the brilliant, rational man I know?

**Journal Entry - Day 102**

The state fair's in town. I drove out to the carnival and looked up Sam and Pete. They were cordial, but didn't seem to know anything about J. Unless they were conning me, they know less than I do. Anyhow, they haven't seen J since before W fired him. They said they'd ask Danny and call me if he's heard from J.

Closure rates are about two-thirds of what they were before J left. That's better. Unfortunately, the cases aren't as airtight as before, so the DA isn't getting as many convictions. More fallout from J's departure. Damn W.

**Journal Entry - Day 118**

I went in this morning and saw a man lying on J's couch. Ron, the floating CBI agent, had the flu and needed to lie down. God, I miss J.

**Journal Entry - Day 130**

More than four months and no news at all. I have to move on, accept that J's done with CBI and out of my life. Ray Haffner asked me out on a date. I don't much feel like it, but maybe I should accept.

**Journal Entry - Day 138**

Now I know why I shouldn't go out on dates. The evening with Ray was agonizing. Not that there is anything wrong with Ray. It's just that he is so much...less...than J. It was all I could do to get through dinner and a drink with him. I don't think I offended him, but I'm not going on any other dates for awhile.

**Journal Entry - Day 154**

What have I gotten out of caring for the last five months? Why can't I just move on?

If I'm honest, I can't because J is, by far, the most fascinating man I've known. Haffner? He's a good agent, nice looking, a decent guy. But he's a cardboard cut‑out compared to J. Greg? If I'd married Greg...I could be an unhappily married mom of three right now. If J ever got past RJ, I'd love to marry him, have children with him. Oh, God. This is the wrong train of thought. I can't even find J. I have no idea if he's okay, much less able to get on with his life. Giving up on RJ didn't help him move on, it pushed him over the edge.

So why J? J said Bosco would "kill and die" for me. J already has. He killed Dumar to keep him from killing me, even though Dumar knew who RJ is. He risked being blown up saving me from Gupta and that bomb jacket. And he's the most interesting man I know. Not hard to look at, either. Damn, damn, damn.

**Journal Entry - Day 163**

Maybe I have selective memory. Was J really that good? He lied. Tricked me. Messed with CBI and left me to fix the problems. Secretive. Paranoid. (Or maybe not. Hard to say where RJ is concerned.) He'll never be available till RJ is resolved.

So why? Because he saw more with a glance than a dozen W's or any three regular agents. Funny. Soft touch–no matter how much he denied it. He saved my life and career. He took ridiculous risks to solve cases. Made life more interesting. Made life more worth living.

**Journal Entry - Day 185**

Assault. Fraud. Narcotics. Resisting arrest. That's what Pat passed along from the guys in Vice. J's alive, but this is bad, not like him at all. It's a breakdown and a serious one. Why hasn't he answered my calls? I've begged him to talk to me, to get help. He's got to admit he needs help and want it. I was right to tell C, R, and VP that. They can't get caught up in J's downward spiral. No one can help J unless he wants help.

If only I felt that way myself. Nothing is working. I'm going to Saint Paul's tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Return

**Limbo**

**Chapter 4 - The Return**

**Note: All quoted material marked with "*" is from The Mentalist Episode "The Crimson Hat"**

**Day 186**

Lisbon called CBI in the morning and told Van Pelt she was taking personal time. She then drove to St. Paul's Church–old, Gothic, beautiful. Millennia of tradition and belief calmed and comforted her as she walked onto the manicured grounds and into the cool, dim, soaring church nave. She made the sign of the cross with holy water, walked to a pew, genuflected and sat down. Still. Quiet. Lisbon's inner turmoil began to seep away as she silently prayed for guidance and peace.

"This is God. What is it now?"* Jane's voice echoed into the silence. He sat up, smiling widely at his prank.

Lisbon started and turned to face him in the pew behind her. She gasped, "You scared the life out of me!"* Astonishment, relief, joy, irritation.

"I crawled all the way on my hands and knees from that door,"* he turned to look back. "But it was worth it,"* he said, still smiling.

"What are you doing here?"*

"It's good to see you. How have you been?"*

Angrily, "Worried sick is how I've been, and then you pop up here like some sort of a lunatic, playing games, asking me how I've been. -Shame on you!"*

"Just stay calm, okay?"* Jane made calming motions with his hands. "It's important that no one sees us together."*

"Why not?"* she challenged, while still eagerly drinking in the sight of him-normal, healthy.

Leaning over the back of Lisbon's pew, Jane looked at her from the corner of his eye, wary of her likely reaction. "I'm faking my breakdown. It's a ruse to trap Red John."*

"Son of a bitch. ... You _son_ of a bitch."*

He swallowed uncomfortably, "Okay, we _are_ in a church."*

Collecting her thoughts, Lisbon responded heatedly, "Wait! So how does faking a breakdown, if that's what you're _really_ doing, because it looks pretty real to me, how does that trap Red John?"*

"What does Red John want from me? What did he send that little girl to ask me?"*

"Do you give up?"*

"Exactly, and I _do_ give up. I quit. I burn the Red John files. I freak out at the boss. I admit defeat, and I sink into a terrible depression."*

"Brilliant,"* she said, voice laced with sarcasm. "You did that part great. Now what?"*

"Why doesn't he just kill me? Because it's too easy. He wants to turn me. He wants to make me his disciple. So I admit defeat, and then he reaches out to start a conversation."*

Doubting, "That's all supposition. He's not going to–"*

"He already _has_ reached out. He sent me a message. I need to start a new life, and he can help me."*

Stunned. "Help you? He wants to help you? -What are you going to do?"*

"I'm going to take him up on the offer. I'm in a lot of real trouble. I do need a new life."*

"Yes, you do."*

"That's what makes the gag work."*

"Then what?"*

"I don't know. I let him lead. That's the beauty of it. He thinks I'm the fish and he's the fisherman."*

"Unless he sees the truth."*

"I am giving him his heart's desire. He will see what he wants to see."*

"Or not."*

"Fooled you. I can fool him."*

Bitterly, "You fooled me all right. Well done."*

"Well-I'm sorry,"* Jane said quietly, feeling small.

"I tried calling. -I tried calling you _hundreds_ of times, _begging_ you to talk to me, _begging_ you to get help. Not a reply. Not a word. Not a text."*

"Sorry,"* he said, beginning to understand what his plan had cost Lisbon.

"You know what? I have not been sleeping. I've been– Forget it. Never mind. You know, you're a jerk. And your plan? It's stupid. It's not even a plan."*

He waited a second, then asked, "But you will help me?"*

"What am I supposed to say? 'No'? God, you're despicable."*

Jane pulled a disposable cell phone from his pocket. "Take this. It's clean. I'll call you when the time comes. In the meantime, do not contact me. Do not let anyone from CBI contact me, and don't tell anyone the truth. Not a soul."*

"I cannot believe you didn't tell me you were doing this, that you couldn't trust me with a secret like that. We're supposed to be partners."* Jane rolled his eyes and rested his forehead on the back of Lisbon's pew.

Lisbon continued, "God knows, I'm happy you're back. It is a huge relief. But what you did, frankly, was a betrayal."* Barely able to handle his part of his self-imposed exile, Jane ducked down between the pews, escaping further recriminations.

Lisbon looked around, only to find he was gone. Again. "God, I hate you, Jane. _I hate you_!"*

Lisbon turned to face the altar and took time to regain her equilibrium. She said a quick prayer of thanks and got up to leave. She paused and sank back down. She thought to also pray for help going forward, realizing that nothing was resolved. Rather, Jane was about to embark on the most dangerous part of his plan. Despite the danger ahead, she couldn't deny the relief and joy she felt knowing Jane was okay. He was okay and back in her life.

**Day 187**

Driving home, Lisbon reviewed her day. _Wainwright buttonholed me, suggesting he contact Jane. Got to hand it to Wainwright to pick exactly the wrong time. He suggested Jane could get into a psych program and get community service for the criminal charges. Wainwright cast it as a humane gesture, but it's transparently connected to the low closure rates. Jerk. Two days ago I would have been overjoyed at the suggestion. Instead, I had to argue against it. Wainwright eventually accepted my argument that Jane was better off left alone. Thank God he backed off._

**Day 189**

Jane called Lisbon three days after she saw him at St. Paul's. The good news: Red John wanted to meet. The bad? He demanded Lisbon's dead body as proof of Jane's willingness to truly become his disciple. Jane asked her to help figure out a plan and see if the team would help. Lisbon had her team join her for lunch in an open-air courtyard at a restaurant that was new to them. A leak of their plan would kill their chances of catching Red John. And possibly Jane, too.

"What's going on, Boss? Why did you want us all here?" asked Cho.

"Let's keep it low. Jane's surfaced," Lisbon started. They looked around. "No, he's not here. He's still in Vegas."

"Is he okay?" Van Pelt voiced everyone's concern.

"Yes." She held up her hands to quiet them. "Hold your questions till after I brief you. Jane's spent the last six months pursuing a plan to get Red John. On the last anniversary of his family's murder, Red John had a little girl ask Jane if he gave up yet. Jane realized he could set a trap using himself as bait. He burned his Red John files and announced he was giving up. He used the Castro case as an excuse to do something outrageous. He goaded Wainwright into firing him. Very publicly. He went to Las Vegas and has been faking a breakdown ever since. Red John took the bait last week. Red John wants to recruit Jane as a disciple and has offered to set him up in a new life. But first he wants to meet Jane. That's our chance to get him."

"Jane didn't have a breakdown at all?" pressed Van Pelt.

"No. He planned it from the start."

"Were you in on Jane's plan? Did you know for the last six months?" asked Rigsby.

Lisbon looked away. "No, I didn't." She clenched her jaw, but refused to sugar-coat it. "I'm not happy about it. But Red John's been tipped off by inside information several times. Jane believes Red John has supporters in the CBI, FBI and some PD's. Any–_any_-contact with us would have been intercepted and would have given away his plan."

The three exchanged glances. To Lisbon's surprise, they seemed relieved she _hadn't_ known. Then she realized that, from their perspective, it meant she wasn't keeping secrets from them.

Cho spoke for all three. "Boss, there have been a bunch of leads that could have gotten us Red John's identity. Each was a dead end. -Renfrew, Dumar, Towlen Morning and the Carter Peak evidence, Rebecca Anderson, Kristina Frye, Todd Johnson, Timothy Carter, Craig O'Laughlin, Sally Carter, Gupta, and even Rosalind Harker. Red John's gotten into the CBI internal network–remember the Renfrew case and when Darcy was being stalked? We don't like the secrecy, but we understand why he feels it's necessary."

"I appreciate that. This is off the books. CBI knows nothing about Jane's undercover plan. I am going to help him in hopes of getting Red John. You each have to make up your own mind. It is perfectly okay if you choose not to participate."

Rigsby responded this time. "The three of us have talked about Jane and Red John. So long as you're backing Jane, we'll keep supporting him, too. Since when is Jane solely responsible for catching Red John? It's the _team's_ responsibility."

Grateful, Lisbon swallowed hard, uncharacteristically emotional. It was a moment before she could continue. "Thank you. This won't be easy. I won't accept your decision till after you know what you're getting into. The first problem is that Red John wants my dead body as proof of Jane's intent. Jane will have to come to Sacramento and fake killing me. The easiest, safest way would be at my townhouse or while commuting. But Jane wants it to be as public and splashy as possible to convince Red John it's real. If we can fake it at CBI the murder will make the Las Vegas newscasts as well as the local ones. That would also convince any Red John supporters in CBI. The second problem is getting Jane and me–my 'body'–out of the building without getting caught or shot. We'll need a powerful distraction–something really dramatic. Finally, the meeting will be in Las Vegas. We'll all have to drive out there. There won't be any back-up. If we're lucky, we may get Red John."

She didn't detail what could happen if they were unlucky. She didn't need to. Not getting Red John was the least of it.


	5. Chapter 5 - The Set-Up

**Limbo**

**Chapter 5 - The Set-Up**

**Day 193**

It was late in the day when Security called Lisbon's office from the booth at the CBI entrance. She cleared Patrick Jane to come up since he no longer had a valid CBI ID. Jane took the elevator to the fifth floor. He got off as Wainwright was stepping on from the fifth floor.

"Jane! I'm glad to see–"

"Not now." Jane walked away as the elevator doors closed on Wainwright. He knocked and opened Lisbon's office door, but she wasn't there.

"Jane!" called Van Pelt as the three of them caught sight of him. They were shocked at his disheveled appearance.

"Good to see you all. How are you?" Jane asked, pausing in the doorway to the bullpen.

"We're good. How are you?"

"Never better. Never better." Jane half-smiled, distracted and on-edge. Catching sight of Lisbon, he called, "There you are," a world of warmth and welcome transforming his voice.

Jane stepped into Lisbon's office, closed the door, and hugged her tightly. Lisbon hugged him, fear of what they were about to do written on her face.

Jane stepped back, pulled a gun, and aimed it at her. "Good luck, Teresa. Love you." He fired three times.

Jane and Lisbon were gone by the time Wainwright and others responded to the sound of gunfire. Van Pelt and Cho hovered over a body lying in a pool of blood outside the bullpen.

"What happened?" Wainwright demanded.

"Patrick Jane. He took Lisbon," answered Cho.

Wainwright looked at the prone body. "Is he–" Catching sight of the destroyed face, "Oh my God! Who is that?"

"It's Rigsby. It's Wayne Rigsby," responded Cho, face twisted by grief.

Rigsby's corpse was faked using a John Doe's body whose face had been obliterated by a close-range shotgun blast. Wearing a delivery man's uniform, Rigsby used a hand-truck to wheel Lisbon out of the CBI building, hidden inside a large crate. Jane escaped down a stairwell and drove away in a nondescript rental car. The three joined up near the airport after Jane returned the rental car. They then drove to Las Vegas in a CBI SUV.


	6. Chapter 6 - The Meeting

**Limbo**

**Chapter 6 - The Meeting**

**Day 194**

The morning found Jane, Lisbon and Rigsby in a vacant Las Vegas warehouse. Van Pelt and Cho arrived later, on leave after Jane's 'murder' of their colleagues.

**Day 195**

Red John's mistress Lorelei called and told Jane to meet Red John at 3:00 pm . The meeting would occur in a foreclosed housing development that had been deserted since the 2008 real estate meltdown. Jane was to bring just the head from Lisbon's dead body. Lisbon's team readied the equipment they needed. Jane apologized for deceiving them and thanked them for helping with the operation. "We're helping the boss. She's helping you, we're helping her."

They positioned themselves in the development. Jane parked the Citron and rode the bicycle left for him by Red John, bringing along the box supposedly containing Lisbon's head. The address given by Red John didn't exist. A stretch limousine pulled up from the desert. A large man with a gun and Red John's mistress got out. About to move in, Lisbon's team was stopped and arrested by FBI agents under Agent Susan Darcy's command. Lisbon explained the operation to Darcy and begged her to protect Jane and go after Red John.

Red John's thug beat up Jane then put him into the limo's front passenger seat. Jane talked with a man in the rear seat who he could see only as a silhouette in the rear view mirror. It was Red John's voice. He told Jane he had learned about the trap from a friend in the FBI. Jane rejected Red John's entreaty to join him. Red John directed Lorelei to cut off two of Jane's fingers, after which they would leave. FBI vehicles raced up to make the bust, sirens screaming. Red John's thug threw Jane aside and got back into the limo with Lorelei. Jane stumbled out of the way and lay panting by the side of the road. The FBI pursued and blocked the limo's escape, stopping it with a hail of bullets. The driver was killed. Lorelei was captured unharmed. The man in the back seat was dead. It turned out to be Wainwright. Red John's voice had come from a cell phone hung around Wainwright's neck.

The CBI SUV skidded to a halt as Lisbon spotted Jane and stopped the car. She got out and sat down next to him.


	7. Chapter 7 - The Aftermath

**Limbo**

**Chapter 7 - The Aftermath**

The CBI SUV skidded to a halt as Lisbon spotted Jane and stopped the car. She got out and sat down next to him.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Never better," he said tiredly, unconvincingly. He reached and gripped Lisbon's hand tightly. No matter what the outcome, the long operation was over. Though exhausted and aching, he was alive.

After a few minutes, Lisbon asked, "Jane, think you can get up?"

"Sure." He got to his knees and then to his feet, favoring his right arm and clearly in pain. Lisbon helped him to the SUV.

"The team's going back to Sacramento. You're ready to come home, right?"

"Yes. Nothing for me here. We got Lorelei?"

Lisbon nodded. "She wasn't hurt. The driver was killed, as was the man in the rear seat. You know Red John wasn't in the limo?"

Flatly, "Yeah." Jane's disappointment was muted by fatigue and pain.

Lisbon changed the subject. "Jane, you're hurt. Will you let the FBI medic check you out? It's a long drive back."

For once Jane didn't fight it. "Okay. Just no ambulance or hospital, all right?"

"So long as the medic agrees."

Lisbon worked things out with the FBI while Jane was with the medic. Darcy was shattered by Wainwright's death so Lisbon dealt with Darcy's second-in-command. The CBI and FBI differed over custody of Lorelei Martins, but agreed she had to be transported back to Sacramento. She would be held by the CBI until the custody matter was resolved. The FBI and CBI agents agreed to drive in a convoy to thwart any Red John rescue attempt. Lisbon, Cho, and Jane would drive back separately.

~.~.~.~

Lisbon, Jane, and Cho drove the Citroen back to Jane's Vegas hotel room. Lisbon dropped them off and continued to the warehouse to retrieve the CBI gear. Jane asked her to also get his books from the warehouse. Jane and Cho were to have his stuff from the hotel room together by the time she returned.

Cho looked around and frowned. "This is...depressing. What do you want me to pack?"

"Just the books. There are folded paper bags in the top drawer under the TV. It will take Lisbon at least 20 minutes to get back. I'm going to wash off the grit from the desert."

Jane took off his suit jacket. He stepped into the bathroom, stripped off his shirt, and washed off the desert dust from his face, neck, and arms. He brushed grit out of his hair and rinsed out his mouth. He got a clean shirt off a hanger just outside the bathroom door.

Cho glanced at him and gave a low whistle. "Man, you've been through a meat grinder."

Buttoning the shirt, Jane replied, "Yeah. Price of Red John's company. Too bad we didn't get Red John, but we can get to him through Lorelei."

"Jane, I'm glad you're back. Long time. Too long."

"Thanks. I'm sick of Vegas, waiting for Red John to make a move. Thank you for working this operation. Hopefully I can square everything with CBI."

"You were right to keep it secret. The FBI let it leak to Red John, somehow."

"Cho, anyone working on Red John who isn't paranoid isn't paying attention. –Oh, here's Lisbon." Jane put on his suit jacket and picked up half of the books Cho had bagged.

Lisbon was first to drive on the long trip back. They had reached the outskirts of Vegas. Jane sat next to her in the passenger seat.

"Lisbon, how many hoops will I have to jump through to get back into CBI?"

Lisbon glanced at him. "Bertram is a talented fixer. We did get Lorelei. He should be able to quash the criminal charges. It's in everyone's interest to cover this mess up."

"How about Wainwright?"

"I don't think he'll be a problem." In the back seat, Cho shook his head but said nothing.

Jane looked at her and frowned. "You're hiding something. What's the big secret?"

Lisbon glanced at him and licked her lips. "Jane, why not just relax and sleep for awhile? We'll talk later."

"Now I'm really curious. Tell me."

She sighed, knowing he wouldn't let it go. "The man in the back of the limo? It was Wainwright."

"Wainwright's dead?! Did he have–"

"Wainwright was divorced," she quickly reassured him. "No kids."

Jane sighed in relief, then shook his head. "Damn. I didn't much like Wainwright, but wouldn't wish this on him."

"I know, Jane. It's not clear if Wainwright was killed before he was put in the limo, or after. His mouth was taped and he may have been drugged. Red John talked to you through a cell phone hung around Wainwright's neck."

"The _FBI_ may have killed him?"

"Yes. Big scandal. Darcy apparently was the agent closest to the limo. We'll know for sure once the ME establishes TOD and forensics checks the bullet. Bertram will have earned his salary if he can make all this go away."

"Another death because of Red John. At least we got something for our trouble."

"Yes. Thank God no one on our team got hurt."

Listening in, Cho nodded to himself. Lisbon didn't indulge in office politics and never bad-mouthed management–at least not publicly. But Lisbon's notion of 'team' clearly didn't extend to Wainwright. Cho considered that an indication of good judgment.

"Hey!" Jane said softly. "It's over. The hardest part is over. Now we just have to get Lorelei to talk."

They settled in for the long drive back to Sacramento.


End file.
